Blue Christmas
by unbearablelightness
Summary: "I'll be blue just thinking about you."
1. Chapter 1

**Blue Christmas**

It wasn't how either of them wanted to leave for Christmas. December came all too fast. Before Jess could firmly decide on how she intended to celebration the holidays, she was faced with Nick, Schmidt and Winston in their bedrooms, packing their bags to head home for family time. Jess was dumbfounded at this. They were _all leaving_?

Jess could recall last year, Nick frantically trying to make it home to Chicago. For some reason Jess had expected him to stay this year. She couldn't really say why. Things were her and Nick were incredibly murky, incredibly ambiguous, incredibly exciting. He was different. Less self-deprecating, a little more vivid. He was cranky, but he was making an effort.

He did things. He sat by her on the couch, almost always, without fail. Often he sat close enough that she could smell the Old Spice. She could practically smell the Mountain Rain value brand shampoo he used. The wholesale-size bottle sat in their shared shower.

She'd be lying if she said she hadn't flipped off the cap and inhaled while she was showering.

Things were strange.

They hadn't discussed their dynamic since she'd been seeing Sam. Friends; that's what they were. Friends who were occasionally attracted to one another. Right?

Right. Jess accepted this as she leaned against the counter, kneading the dough for her Christmas sugar cookies. She pressed the heels of her hands into the dough, pushing frustration into the cookies. Her stomach felt tight, like she had to take some sort of action before her roommates left. Before Nick left.

_To be continued_


	2. Chapter 2

**Blue Christmas**

Action escaped her.

Before she could truly scheme some grand plan to make the warmth in her gut known to Nick, it was Christmas Eve. Blindly, almost numbly, she had planned her Christmas holidays. Time off from her tutoring gig, while the kids were all on holidays and had no interest in sharpening their understanding of the parts of speech or atoms, allowed her to prepare a truly decadent dinner for her divorced parents and their significant others. Cece and Robbie were joining them.

Jess waded through cookbooks, ignoring the type on the page. She was focused on trying to figure out a gift for Nick. She figured that a gift, particularly a Christmas gift, was the ideal opportunity to step out of her invisible comfort zone with Nick. She could, perhaps, show Nick that it wasn't just the crazy gold glitter all over their Christmas tree, or the intoxicating scent of cinnamon candles in the apartment that was making her yearn for something _more._

Something more with Nick. It was an idea that took a lot of getting used to for Jess. But the result, where she was now, all warm and tingly, had happened naturally. She fell into it softly, allowing it to snowball as time continued to bind the two of them together.

Her desire to spend time with Nick this Christmas cemented her feelings. If nothing else – if everything romantic was subtracted from her equation – she was still left with this guy who she wanted to be able to cheers to a holiday season with at Christmas Eve dinner, joke with while they washed the dishes, sit around the living room with after dinner. She wanted to watch _A Christmas Story _late at night with him, Schmidt, Winston, Cece and Robbie on their couch, relaying stories of how awkward dinner was with Jess' estranged parents. She wanted Nick to have chosen a spot next to her, to have fallen asleep, open-mouthed on the couch. She wanted that comfort around her for Christmas.

She wanted the opportunity to have a cup of coffee with him on Christmas morning and give him a gift that said: "Hey Nick, you mean a lot to me. You deserve _this._" Trouble was, Jess didn't know what to fill the 'this' with. She had racked her brain and now, it was Christmas Eve afternoon and her turkey was finally in the oven and there would be no _Christmas Story _on the couch later.

Nick was out last-minute shopping for his family. Winston was gone to Shelby's to pack the car for their drive to Pasadena for Christmas with Shelby's family. Schmidt was sprawled on the couch in an Armani ensemble, a tea towel wrapped around his neck, and a thick spread of Keihls detoxifying face mask smeared on his face. His chocolate brown pants were rolled up his calves while his feet soaked in a mineral bath that rumbled and bubbled.

"Jess," he called out from the couch. His arm was extended in the air, empty, rattling with melting ice cubes. "Could you be a lamb and top me off?"

Jarred out of her blank stare at her cookbook, Jess took Schmidt's glass and poured him another rum and eggnog. She sprinkled nutmeg on top. Schmidt was horribly anxious about going home for Christmas. He hated – thoroughly hated – every moment he spent with his family. He was two eggnogs deep and praying that Keihls would help relax him before he boarded the plane.

"You doing okay, Schmidt?" Jess asked, placing the refilled glass into Schmidt's outstretched, grateful hand.

"Me?" he asked, shrugging nonchalantly. "Lord knows I'm great. Fifteen more minutes and my pores will be gleaming. You could eat out of 'em." He took a deep sip of rum.

"Gross, Schmidt." Jess cringed. "That is an all-the-way gross visual for me."

He sighed. "I'm fine." And relaxed his head back on the couch.

"I wish you guys could stay for dinner."

Schmidt opened his eyes again. His statement "Playa has to jetset for the holidays" sounded deflated, disappointed. He took another sip of his beverage and closed his eyes. "I smell too much tarragon in the turkey stuffing." The conversation was over.

.

Company had arrived. It was five o'clock, wine was chilling in the fridge, Jess was wearing a tailored navy blue taffeta dress, tights, gold heels, and a light-up Rudolph pin. Jess' parents and their respective others, Sandra and Neil, were sitting uncomfortably around the Pier 1-looking holiday table. Jess wanted class for her first cooked Christmas dinner.

She took out the first bottle of rose wine from the fridge. Pink wine was her own touch to Jess up dinner a bit. She poured glasses, engaging her parents, her potential step-parents, and Schmidt in conversation. Schmidt was charming. He kissed both Sandra and Jess' mom's cheeks upon their arrival. He led the immediately to the table, both by the hand, and gushed about _Downton Abbey. _Jess hugged her father and shook Neil's hand.

"Um, scotch?" she shrugged. "Is that… something that you'd be interested in drinking?" she cleared her throat, smiling, nodding to persuade them. "I've got some!" She reached into cupboard and pulled out a bottle of Glenfiddich.

.

Bing Crosby played. Jess bit the cuticles on her fingers as everyone sat at the table drinking, eating her spinach dip, relatively merrily. Nick had arrived home and nervously waved to Jess' family. He smiled, chatting with everyone, his hands in the back pocket of his jeans. His cheeks were flushed, like he was either embarrassed or hot. Jess watched him. Her own palms grew clammy, her throat thick at the hours winding down.

Christmas Eve was passing.

Schmidt and Nick were sharing a cab to the airport in less than ten minutes. Nick was busying himself talking with Jess' dad and Neil, nodding at everything the men were saying. He laughed, all together avoiding Jess' presence. It wasn't until Nick leaned over to Schmidt, interrupting his gushing of Elizabeth McGovern's eyebrow arches, that Nick seemed to acknowledge that they were leaving to the airport like, now.

Time was slipping away. It was falling out of Jess' hands before she could tighten her grip on it. Cece and Robbie waltzed in through the front door, a bottle of shiraz in their hand, passing out hugs and Merry Christmases. Schmidt fell uncomfortably quiet and shook Robbie's hand. Nick had slipped off to his bedroom.

.

He was sitting on a footstool in his bedroom, hunched over, his chin in his hand. His zipped-up duffel bag was at his feet. His down-filled Chicago jacket lay on his bed.

Jess knocked.

"Yuletide greetings." Jess waved, her hand brushing nosily against the skirt of her dress. Nick gave her a tight-lipped smile. His nervous hand rubbed at his chin.

"Um," Jess pointed to his bag. "You all packed up? _Chi city _ya'll."

Nick's straight smile turned upward. His eyes looked big. Big, brown, troubled. He remained quiet.

Jess shrugged. "Well, if you want something to take on the road, Cece made a _pretty _killer plate of lettuce rolls that I'm sure would travel well."

She was trying to be light. Her stomach weighed down to her knees. The tips of her fingers felt cold. Time was passing. She had no grand gesture, no Christmas finale to offer him. It was perfect: the loft was beautifully decorated, smelled great, was full of family.

Nick seemed so uncomfortable.

Jess wished it wasn't like this, She wished she had something to offer him; a gift maybe, or at least something to break the tension.

Nick stood up, gathering his bags, chewing on his bottom lip in what seemed like intense thought. They were adults. They only needed to take a few steps to close the blaring gap between them: a gap that they wanted to fill. Jess wanted to be around Nick.

It was one of those moments. One of those moments that seemed like it was actually heavy, pressing down on them, squeezing the words out of them. Both Nick and Jess seemed paralyzed, incapable of doing what they each wanted. It felt dramatic, Jess thought. Just standing there. She'd had these moments with Nick before. They often wound up in tiny, intense situations, both staring at each other, feeling like they were standing in a field with nothing to hold on to.

There were no directions with them. Neither knew how to behave. They didn't want rules enforced on them. Jess wanted _something_. She didn't want Nick to shuffle out the door to Chicago. But she couldn't think! Her mind felt gray,like she couldn't come up with any sort of action that would get him to hang on a second, to allow for –at least- a graceful goodbye and well-wishing.

Nick stepped forward, Jess stepped back. Awkwardly. Nick haulted. "I should…" he gestured toward the door. "Schmidt's going to tear my head off if we're late. My _mom _will lose it, you know? Remember last year?" He laughed.

His laughing lightened everything. Maybe the situation wasn't as intense as Jess was feeling. She laughed, too. And then she remembered his lovely Christmas present to her last year. The lights. She felt awkward again, thinking about the stupid present in her bedroom made out to Nick Miller.

That had to mean something, right? Jess was in her own head. She wasn't present, wasn't acting on any feelings. They walked out of Nick's bedroom, casually, to the front door. Schmidt was saying his gregarious goodbyes. He wished Cece and Robbie a Merry Christmas with such stoicism that it made Jess sad.

There was a guy, terrified of being in love with Cece, standing in his home on Christmas, watching her happy with another person. Jess felt compassion for Schmidt. She watched, feeling helpless, as Nick and Schmidt waved goodbye to everyone and closed the door behind them.

.

Helplessness. Jess didn't want to feel helpless. She wanted to indulge her emotions, to let them breath. She wanted to act on them. Jess scurried out the front door, down the hallway, catching up with Schmidt and Nick waiting at the elevator.

Awkwardly, she ran up in between Schmidt and Nick, giving them a double punch on the shoulder. "Okay." She winced. "God, sorry, I was trying to relate with body language. Listen guys, have really, really good Christmases, ok? I wish you were staying." She was looking at both of them but speaking to Nick. "Like really wish you were staying."

Everyone was smiling, a bit uncomfortably. Jess didn't know how to cap off her dramatic chase. She saluted them both. "Alright, well, feliz navidad and goodnight!"

Schmidt, sensing Nick's unbreakable, nervous gaze at Jess, stepped in. Schmidt wrapped his arms around Jess, squeezing her briefly, and said "Merry Christmas to you Jessica!" He released her and stepped out of the way, paving a perfect path for Nick.

Jess chuckled at Schmidt's distance. He had back away almost three feet, crossed his arms in front of him, and stared up at the corner of the ceiling.

"Alright, well Merry Christmas, Jess," Nick pulled her into a hug. Suddenly, the tension was gone. She felt no pressure, just relief that she was getting a proper, meaningful moment with two thirds of her roommates. Jess and Nick held one another tight, their arms locked around one another for a couple of seconds, letting one action try to speak the words they weren't saying.

"Have fun in Chicago!" Jess smiled brightly. "Ask your mom what she thinks of the zucchini cake recipe I sent her!"

Nick softened, nodded, and gave her a quick half-hug, his arm wrapped over her shoulder. He leaned his head on top of hers, just for a second, and kissed the top of her hair. "I will never eat a vegetable cake in my life. It's unnatural." He let her go and followed a grinning Schmidt to the elevator.

"Nick, you glutton." Schmidt pressed the down button. "Expand your horizons."

Everyone smiled. Jess watched the doors chime open. "Bye, you guys!" Jess waved. The boys stood in the elevator, her mirror image. Schmidt impatiently pressed the 'close door' button.

Jess looked up at Nick. He was peeking at her, a shy smile on his face. The doors slid closed.

_I'll be so blue just thinking about you_

To be continued 


	3. Chapter 3

**Blue Christmas**

Missed opportunities are only such if allow them. Jess learned this on December 29. The day was one of those strange in-between-events days. Christmas had passed; New Years wasn't quite here. It was nothing special. People don't celebrate December 29. You don't cook a turkey or serve aged scotch on this day.

Jess didn't miss her opportunity.

Neither did Nick.

.

He got in first. Schmidt and Winston were still away. When he arrived home that evening, Jess and Cece were alone in the apartment. They had _It's A Wonderful Life _on the television and had made homemade hot chocolate. Jess had boiled chocolate on the stove.

She offered him a mug of hot chocolate. Nick happily accepted. He looked drained from the flight. He also looked exponentially more comfortable than he had when he left days before. He was nested on the couch, his socked feet on the ottoman. He praised the hot chocolate.

Jess stared at him in mild disbelief. She was glad for his level of ease and comfort, but where was hers? Why was she so aware of Cece sitting in between them?

As it would turn out, Cece, too, was aware of her own presence. She gulped down the rest of her beverage, wiped her chocolate moustache, and excused herself. "Well, kids, I should head out. I just had a pound of melted Belgian chocolate and I have to lay semi-naked on a retired basketball player selling Nikes tomorrow. So, oops!"

"Goodnight Cece!"

Both Jess and Nick followed social convention of a friend leaving: they chuckled, amused at Cece's wit, and both stared back at the television as though they were disproportionately engaged in the musical. Nick cleared his throat and took a long sip of hot chocolate.

"So, how was Chicago?"

"Oh, good, good! Lots of family. My grandma fell asleep during dinner."

"Shoot."

"Age, right?"

"Ha! Yeah." Jess cringed at herself for her seeming lack of social skills. "Old people."

Jess fidgeted with her homemade _Kittens by Kittens _t-shirt, thinking of some non-discreet way to steer the conversation to a more palatable, progressive subject. She wanted to talk about her and Nick.

Nick, it would seem, was on the same page. Only he was not as delicate about it. He stood up suddenly, set down his drink, and asked: "Can I give you your Christmas present?"  
Jess flooded with relief. "Presents? Always! Yes!" She hopped up, excitedly, and called over her shoulder as she walked, "I'll go get yours!"

She searched her room for her regrettably lame present. Oh well. She had nothing else to give him. Jess bounced out to the living room. Nick was coming out of Schmidt's bedroom when she re-entered the room. He set his large wrapped box on the kitchen counter. Jess met him in the kitchen.

"You were keeping my present in Schmidt's room?" Jess frowned. "God, he's going to have sprayed it with Drakkar Noir."

Nick smiled confidently. "I didn't want you to find it while I was gone."

If Jess were something other than a human, her ears would have piqued. "Why'd you wait to give it to me?" She asked, leaning against the counter, rotating her tiny gift bag in her hands. She hadn't realized that this intentionally casual question was going to require such courage and preparation for Nick to answer. He inhaled deeply before he opened his mouth to talk.

"Because I was nervous, Jess."

"Nervous?" her question was soaked in disbelief.

Nick nodded. He shrugged. "About what you'd think of it."

"Nick, don't even worry about that, I mean -" Jess began to dismiss him, but Nick interrupted.

"I was talking to my sister, though. In Chicago. Telling her about the present and stuff." Nick exhaled slowly, almost wincing. "I was telling her about you, too."

Taken aback, Jess tried to form a sentence. "About…me?" She could feel her heart pounding in her ears.

"Yeah. She reassured me that the present was kind of… cool. So, I mean…" He pushed the box toward her. "Here you go. Merry Christmas, Jess."

Still not having been able to put together a coherent thought, Jess, with bumbling fingers, unwrapped the gift. She unearthed an IKEA box. A faux-antique baking rack. Jess began to thank him, but Nick interrupted her again.

"I was thinking…" He ran his tongue across his lips hesitantly. "That I could help you put it together."

"Um…" Jess looked at him, confused. "Okay."

The dots did not connect. Nick drew them together.

"I was thinking that I could help you put it together…but be your boyfriend this time, Jess." He almost sounded defeated when he spoke; exasperated, like he had to really work for those words to come out of him. The words seemed to echo and bounce through Jess' head before she realized their meaning.

Jess clapped her hands to her ears. "I think I can feel blood in my ears."

"W…what?" Nick arched his eyebrow in misunderstanding. "You're bleeding from your ears?"

Jess shook her head. "No, no. I'm not…" she wiped her eye with her hand, embarrassed. "My heart is just pounding so fast. Nick, I _want _to be your girlfriend." She smiled, like she now had to convince him. "Like, really badly."

Nick started laughing. Full on, laughing with relief. Jess started laughing as well. They looked at each other, pure joy running across both of their faces.

"Okay!" Nick continued to laugh. "I guess we…" He looked at her shyly again. "We're…"

Jess grinned, shrugging her shoulders. "Together?" They reached for the other's hand at the same time, pulling each other in for a kiss. Not two seconds after their hands touched, Winston and Shelby paraded through the door.

.

Winston and Shelby were oblivious to what happened. They chatted, regaled stories from their first Christmas together, and poured themselves hot chocolate. Schmidt came home soon after, full of chatter and stories, too. Everyone sat together in the living room, the classic movie channel playing _White Christmas_ in the background.

They stayed up until after midnight.

Jess excused herself to go to bed. Everyone, tiredly covering the couch, slowly dispersed and went to her bedroom. She sat on her bed, the IKEA baking rack next to her. She was exhausted, her stomach sore from chocolate, but she was giddy. She felt like sweetness was running through her veins.

When the noise in the living room and the flushing of toilets and running of taps had finally quieted, Jess blinked in the dark. She had gotten under her covers and half-fallen asleep. She sat up. She felt different. She was dating Nick. Just like that. One word, really, had brought them together in a whole different light.

Jess darted softly to the kitchen, grabbing the gift bag off of the counter. She padded back to Nick's room and quietly pushed open the door. He was under the covers, the lights off. "Nick?" She whispered into the dark. He rustled under his sheets. He had been asleep. Nick said nothing, just flipped open the covers on the empty side of his bed.

Jess ran cold again. She swallowed the excitement in her throat, slipped off her slippers, and sat down into his bed. His sheets were warm from sleep. She lay down and he let the blanket fall over her. Hesitantly, he reached for her hand under the covers.

Jess surged with joy once again. She rolled into him in his bed, closer than she'd ever been to him, and let him wrap his arms around her. Jess held the gift bag in her hand still, the corner of the burned cd she had intended to give him probably jabbing into his stomach.

"Hey." Nick's voice was quiet and slightly hoarse. It couldn't have been more comforting if he had wrapped it in a scarf. Jess smiled up at him.

"Hey." She repeated back. "I'm in Nick Miller's bed." She almost snickered, giddily, as warmth spread over her body. A lovely mix of his body heat and hers mixing warmed her from the core. She propped her head up on her arm. Nick lay his on his pillow, gazing up at her. Tilting her head down over him, they kissed. The softest, most anticipated kiss either of them had experienced.

Jess moved her weight from her own support and let her face be cradled by Nick.

_Fin. _


End file.
